Solace
by thelittlerat
Summary: Gail/Holly - A little story about the night after the shootings. Inner dialogue of both characters. This is complete.


**GAIL**

Gail sat on the concrete block wall next to Holly's building. She dug deeper into her jacket trying to fight off the never-ending shivers that were running up and down her spine. She could move into the alcove at the door to shield her from the wind, but that option wasn't winning the debate of "where to sit at one o'clock in the morning waiting for someone without looking desperate." Instead she sat on the wall; swinging her legs slightly as to not lose feeling in everything below her waist; silently watching a man walk his dog in the park across the street.

It had been an excruciatingly long and terrifying day – one that was probably going to extend for a few more days if not weeks. She should be home hiding under her covers or at the Penny hiding under a bottle of bourbon, but instead she had somehow found herself abandoning her car at the station and walking in the direction of Queen Street West. The emotions of the day were crashing all around her like cluster bombs. It wasn't just the day though, it was everything. The entire year was a series of soap opera level dramas and she was becoming too exhausted to hide or be stoic. She needed solace. Alcohol was becoming a little too much of a crutch and her friends had their own dramas so she found herself waiting…waiting for the one person that seemed to get her, to care for her without question or judgment.

The mixture of weather and anxiety was making her breathing slightly labored. The tightening of her chest and the chill of the air was haunting her of memories waking up on that dead-cold steel table, cuffed and blindfolded. It was a sensation that had never really left; always lurking somewhere in the near confines of her mind occasionally slashing through a night's sleep awakening her in terror with screams that could never escape her throat. With another shiver, she closed her eyes and prayed for one simple moment of peace.

The gentle hand on her forearm should have startled her but she had somehow known Holly was near before she ever felt her physical presence. She slowly opened her eyes and saw warm, yet worried, brown eyes staring intently back at her. Holly's hand moved down her arm and wrapped around her own hand as she silently guided her out of the cold and into the building.

Without taking off her shoes or coat, Gail wordlessly curled up on the sofa and wrapped the thick blanket around her that had been neatly folded on the armrest. She watched as Holly threw her purse on the desk; with her shoes and coat landing somewhere nearby. She knew from their previous interactions that Holly was typically much more meticulous about where her stuff was placed. Someone in her line of work would have to be very organized about everything they did. Maybe exhaustion was overtaking Holly's actions too? That worried Gail more than she cared to admit. She didn't want to bring anxiety to someone she cared so deeply about. Caring was something she didn't quite want to admit either, but that ship may have already sailed the previous afternoon in the interview room.

As Holly walked into the kitchen, Gail realized the other woman seemed to innately know what she needed at any given time. In this moment, Holly knew her friend needed space and time. The words would come eventually. It should have unnerved the officer – they hadn't even said one word to each other and yet a dialogue was happening between them beyond their voices.

No one had ever really taken the time or effort to really get to know her. Yeah, she had friends, close friends even, but there was a line they knew to never cross. A line she boldly painted around her and decorated it with sarcasm and thinly-veiled threats of rage. Her parents left the line alone…hell, her mother even helped paint it occasionally. Steve was never afraid of the line. He would crash through it when it suited him, but as they got older he mostly left her alone too. Traci crossed it the most, but Gail had painted the line much thinner for her since Jerry. When Jerry and Gail's stories became so intrinsically intertwined, so did Traci and Gail's. They never spoke of why they were bonded, but they protected and understood each other in a way others couldn't really understand.

Holly walked towards the sofa holding two steaming coffee cups. Gail could smell the chocolate wafting into the room. The smell alone was calming her and quieting the marching band that had been playing in her head. As she reached for the cup with one hand, she took the other to lift the blanket enough for Holly to crawl under on the other side of the sofa. Their legs naturally and comfortable tangled as the shared quiet and knowing half-smiles. As she took her first sip of the hot liquid, Gail closed her eyes again briefly and allowed herself to accept the confusing yet wonderful reality that this woman sitting across from her brought her an incredible sense of comfort and inner peace. For the first time, Gail had found solace in the chaos.

**HOLLY**

She parked her car in her spot across from her building and twisted and circled her shoulders to try and work out the tension in her muscles. She couldn't remember a day with more ups and downs jam-packed into such a little timeframe. She had spent half the previous night tossing and turning questioning why she would bring a date to the Penny. Questioning why she even went on the date in the first place. They may not have known each other for very long, but she knew not to push Gail into a corner. Gail knew how to come out swinging better than almost anyone else Holly had ever met. Is that why she did it? Was she challenging Gail? She took a date to the bar Gail hung out all the time with her friends - a cop bar nonetheless. Holly recognized that a part of her, a part she didn't like at the moment, went on that date more for Gail's reaction than her own pleasure.

Holly spent most of the morning repeatedly reminding herself that the two of them were friends and nothing more. She knew better than to fall for a straight girl. Her friends called it "The Heche." Yeah, it looked like Ellen and Anne were going to be together forever, but eventually Anne Heche married a man. You "Heche", you lose. Well, Ellen totally ended up winning, but for a while there it was touch and go. Holly wasn't ready to have her heart trampled on by this blonde police officer, so she finally relented and let her be set up by her friends. The date was fine, better than fine even, but she couldn't help but notice a brief but very real look of possessive jealousy hiding behind a Gail's glass of cheap liquor when she got up to grab the wine list at the bar. She also couldn't help, again with the part she didn't like very much at the moment, feel senses of relief and hope in seeing that look from across the room.

As logic did its best to infiltrate Holly's mind telling her over and over to keep thing between Gail and her platonic; she also couldn't quite reconcile Gail as just a straight girl to be firmly placed in the friend zone. There was something very enigmatic, chameleon-like about the blonde that made her more fluid in whom she was, even her sexuality. On one hand, her mannerisms and outward persona displayed confidence and coolness; but for some unknown reason she allowed Holly to see the other hand - the hand she kept firmly behind her back hidden from others. It was in that hand…the vulnerability, confusion, compassion, and surprising shyness…that kept Holly tossing and turning at night and cancelling second dates with perfectly fine potential girlfriends.

Holly felt a shiver run through her as the chill hit her awakening her from her reverie. She had been sitting in her car, ignition off, for almost twenty minutes. My god she was tired. It was 1:30 in the morning and she had spent almost all evening and night helping forensics tag evidence from the shootings. The thought that the blood on the evidence could have easily been Gail's was shaking her soul and racing her mind. She had never been more thankful for giving into her stupid whims and walking over the station that afternoon. It changed everything. Yes, Gail kissed her – which was pretty amazing – but more importantly Gail removed her very deeply guarded and well-honed chameleon layer and truly let Holly see her for who she was. Gail gave Holly a gift and Holly spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what to do with it and how to return it.

She grabbed her purse, climbed out of the car quietly shutting the door as to not wake the neighbors and took a step to cross the street. It was then she saw a very familiar figure sitting on the wall near her building. It stopped her in her tracks and she couldn't help but take in every inch of the blonde. Gail's body was slightly balled up in an attempt to fight off the cold and what you could see of her face, hiding behind her hood, was almost iridescent in the pale of the moonlight. Her eyes were shut. Someone who didn't know her better may have thought she asleep, but as Holly silently walked closer she knew. She knew her friend, her someone much more than a friend, was struggling to not break and closing her eyes was the only thing stopping it from happening.

Holly took a moment to run through the options as to how to handle this situation. No matter how many times Holly pretended to "get Gail" there was not a manual on handling this woman. Honestly, Holly thought Gail just gave her credit for trying and giving and good as she got. At least forty different conversation starters bounced through her head like jumping balls before she settled on the option of silence. Sometimes Gail did best with silence. Holly slowly reached our hand and placed in on Gail's forearm. She should have been surprised when Gail didn't remotely flinch, but somehow she knew the other women knew she was there. It was the subtle way Gail's face ever-so-slightly relaxed when Holly stepped onto the sidewalk near her.

What did surprise her was the look Gail gave her when she opened her eyes. There were tears pooling in her eyes being held back by sheer force of will. Beyond the shimmer of tears was a haunting shadow of vulnerability and fear that brought a tear to Holly's eye as well. She wanted to take her in her arms right then and there, but she knew better. Instead she grabbed her hand and led her to her loft.

She watched as Gail walked into her place first, settling on the sofa and wrapping a blanket around her. She wanted to walk over and take off her shoes and jacket. In part to make Gail more comfortable, but mostly because she hated shoes on her furniture. She realized she was being weird and let it go tossing her own shoes and coat in the direction of her desk. Maybe she could learn to loosen up a little and not be so neat and organized all the time. It's not that Gail was slob. Holly had seen her apartment and while Dov, Chris and Gail didn't make an overt effort in keeping it clean, they didn't trash the place either. Gail was going to be making some pretty large life changes for this relationship thing of theirs to work. The least Holly thought she could do was throw her purse near her desk instead of properly hang it up every once in a while.

She still got the feeling Gail wasn't ready to confront her day or even the moment. Instead of breaching her space, she walked into the kitchen and made some hot chocolate. Normally she would make it from scratch, but it was late and packets would have to do. She walked back into the living room, and silently handed Gail her cup. The blonde certainly looked tired, but not even close to wanting to sleep. Holly wondered how long they would be up. What was going to happen next? Would they ever speak? Did they even need to?

Never breaking eye contact, Holly noticed from the corner of her eye Gail was lifting the blanket welcoming her to join her. It was more than just an invitation to sit on the sofa; it was an invitation to be part of Gail's inner world. It was another gift to be returned at some later date. Holly took a seat and faced this woman who had somehow gotten very deep under her skin in a very short period of time. She shared a brief smile of acknowledgement and gratitude and watched as the blonde closed her eyes once more. The pain having somehow escaped her exhausted body, Holly noticed a look she had never seen cross Gail's pale complexion. It was a look of solace. It was a look of peace. It was in that look; Holly realized she had already returned the gifts Gail had granted her. The same looked washed over her face as she settled in for the night.


End file.
